


Everglow

by primalectra



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Alternate Universe - Canon, F/M, Non-Graphic Violence, Secret-Kinda-Former Relationship, Swearing, definitely a darker depiction of war than what was shown in the series, more warnings as the series progresses, ok theres a lot of swearing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-14
Updated: 2020-06-26
Packaged: 2021-03-03 22:54:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,391
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24713431
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/primalectra/pseuds/primalectra
Summary: They are a candle in the darkness; they blaze, they dim, they falter, but even when the wick turns into embers, they are everglow.[or – Zuko joins Team Avatar and seeks absolution for his sins.]
Relationships: Katara/Zuko (Avatar), Minor or Background Relationship(s)
Comments: 14
Kudos: 53





	1. man is a giddy thing

**Author's Note:**

> My friends and I made a playlist for crying, and this fic is a result of having it on repeat for weeks.
> 
> This fic will have a darker depiction of the war we saw on our screens all those years ago; rating may go up if needed. Everyone is aged up by four years, and the Avatar was found two and a half years before the arrival of Sozin's Comet. Please check warnings before proceeding.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter begins on the invasion on the Day of the Black Sun.
> 
> Though this story might seem Zuko-centric at first, it'll delve into Zutara sooner than you think. Enjoy!
> 
> Updated on 26 June 2020 for minor grammatical errors.

_'_ _Round here, through the dark – run, little lion man, run._

Zuko stumbled out of his father’s bunker as he fought against the royal guard. He ran as fast as his feet could handle, shoving and catapulting past unconscious guards. His father’s soldiers raced after him, viciously reaching and grabbing for the prince; but how can you outrun a prince that has spent his life running?

Zuko broke through the bunker’s exit and shoved past warriors and soldiers before tripping and falling over a thick log. _That’s strange,_ Zuko thought. _There’s no trees nearby._

He turned to the sight of a fallen Fire Nation soldier, crying in agony from a large gash by his leg. He realized, with horror creeping up his throat, that the soldier was no older than he was. _Too young, he's too young,_ Zuko thought in a panic. He spotted one of his father’s guards gaining on him and, in blind panic, Zuko held up the soldier and pressed one of his Dao swords to his neck. “Come any closer,” Zuko said, his voice steady and firm against his shaking breath. “And I’ll slice him clean.”

The guards stopped abruptly. “Daichi,” the man breathed. He looked at Zuko with horror.

It took all of Zuko’s will to keep his composure steady. He never wanted to be feared by anyone, especially by his own people; but this was war, and he needed to escape and find the Avatar’s fleet before it was too late. “Don’t,” Zuko said, making a show of shifting the blade. The boy, Daichi, trembled.

“Father,” Daichi said, his voice coming out watery and small. “Father, it’s okay.”

Zuko almost dropped the boy. Two more of his father’s guards came into view.

“Y-your highness,” the guard said, visibly trembling. “Please, that’s my son.”

The image of the guard burned itself into his mind and Zuko fought to keep himself steady. “I’ll let your son go,” he said, wincing at how similar he sounded to his own father. “If you tell your men to fall back.”

When he saw the guard pause in hesitation, Zuko took it as an opportunity to promptly release Daichi. He took off, running towards the direction of the Avatar’s fleet.

Zuko catapulted himself over the shoulders of soldiers, his feet nimble and light against the power he forced through them. His dual Dao swords clashed against the jian swords of the Fire Nation and the shortswords of the Earth Kingdom and the Water Tribes; if he landed a hit, he never stopped to look. He felt shameful, wielding a weapon against his people – most of them weren’t more than innocent men, conscripted against their own will. When he lashed out in self-defense at a warrior from the Water Tribes or the Earth Kingdom, Zuko’s shame doubled into panic – he needed them to accept him on their side, and injuring their men would certainly give them more demerits than he already has. Zuko was careful not to use his bending, mindful of the optics that it will carry.

Zuko spotted the Chief of the Southern Water Tribe just as his regiment began their retreat; with the Avatar and his friends nowhere to be found, Zuko made a beeline for the chief. _“Chief Hakoda!”_ Zuko yelled over the fray of frantic soldiers. Hakoda turned in time for a Fire Nation soldier to swing a deadly blow to the chief’s neck, which Zuko deftly blocked, kicking the soldier’s head before turning to face the chief; Hakoda, however, was quick – he grabbed Zuko into a chokehold and brought Zuko to his knees. “The Dao swords,” Hakoda whispered, and Zuko’s dual Dao swords clattered noisily against the pavement.

“Sir, I don’t intend to harm your fleet; in fact, I’d like to join you. I offer valuable information,” Zuko said, gripping his hands against Hakoda’s arms.

“And what makes you think I’d buy that, Prince Zuko?” Hakoda asked, his voice heavy with suspicion. He tightened his grip ever so slightly, and Zuko responded in kind, his knuckles growing white against the force of his grip.

“Because the Fire Lord is about to drop aerial bombs all over this town, then he’ll detonate a series of warheads against your submarines.”

 _“Fall back!”_ Zuko heard a Fire Nation soldier shout. The warriors and soldiers of the Avatar’s fleet began shooting confused looks at each other, which quickly transformed into looks of horror as they spotted the airships ascending from the horizon.

Hakoda grunted, conflicted with the prince-turned-turncoat. He didn’t trust Zuko by any means, at least not yet, but his intel certainly bought him enough time to tell his men to clear the city square, take themselves to the war balloons, and steer their ships clear of the direction of the submarines.

“Bato,” Hakoda said, grabbing his second-in-command by the arm. “Get the children out of the submarines.” Bato nodded in return.

He expertly shifted Zuko away from the chokehold and tied the prince’s hands with cables before dragging him towards the nearest war balloon. Though Zuko could barely bend with his hands tied, he managed to use the power of his breath to fuel the flames and get them out of harm’s way. This didn’t go unnoticed by the chief, but he stayed silent as he watched for any sign of perfidy from his periphery.

The sign never came – but this didn’t stop Hakoda from binding Zuko’s ankles with another cable. The prince made no protest.

They landed on a ridge by the lip of the Caldera, at the rendezvous Hakoda and his children agreed on earlier. “Dad!” Katara cried, tears threatening to spill as she ran toward the chief. Sokka tailed after Katara, and he all but crumbled when he gave his father a hug.

“We saw the airships,” Sokka said. “They knew, Dad, and we thought you got caught in the city square.”

Hakoda smiled at his children, his eyes glassy with unshed tears. “I was afraid you didn’t leave the submarines in time.”

“We got Bato’s withdrawal signal,” Sokka said, his face grim and twisted with sorrow. “We didn’t even see their subs, Dad. Next thing we knew, the water exploded.”

Sokka squeezed his eyes shut as he tried to erase the image from his mind. Of the three submarines that were installed, only two were evacuated.

Hakoda knew the emotion that came over his son’s face. It was one that haunted him ever since his first loss in the war.

“Sokka, it’s not your fault,” Hakoda said, extending a comforting hand over his son’s shoulders. Sokka flinched and backed away, his face stricken with agony and sorrow.

“But they died on _my watch,_ Dad. _I_ was the one who planned this invasion, _I_ was the one who led the underwater fleet, and _ten men still died.”_

“Sokka,” Katara said, her voice quiet. When she tried to reach for her brother, he only flinched and backed further away. 

A brief, heavy silence hung over the family. Zuko, ever the tactful man, called out to them from his position in the war balloon.

“Where is the Avatar?”

The siblings jumped at the voice and Katara surged forward in fury. _“You,”_ she spat, her voice dripping with menace. “What the _fuck_ are you doing here?”

“I brought your men – and your father – to safety, if that’s what you wanted to know,” Zuko spat back, trying to ignore the tugging in his heart. Sokka shoved past Katara and grabbed Zuko by the collar, his bolo slanted towards Zuko’s jugular.

“Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t slice you open,” Sokka demanded in a dangerously low voice. Zuko didn’t flinch; instead, he leveled his eyes to Sokka’s red-rimmed ones.

“I’m on your side,” Zuko said. Sokka only dug his blade deeper into his skin. _Wrong answer._

“You're a piece of shit, you know that?” Sokka spat, tightening his grip on Zuko. Zuko stayed still and quiet; the moment he moved his throat, the blade would puncture his jugular vein.

“Sokka,” Hakoda said in a steady, serious voice. “He was the one who warned us about the bombs and the warheads.”

Sokka’s fury-filled face morphed into one of disbelief. He loosened his grip on Zuko, but kept his bolo slanted towards the prince’s neck; he shifted his head towards his father, but nothing could come out of his mouth.

Katara spoke instead. _“Him?”_ she asked her father incredulously. “That’s ridiculous. He’s spent the last two years hunting us down, Dad. _He’s the reason why Ba Sing Se fell.”_ She punctuated each word on the last bit, making sure Zuko heard every syllable of it.

Zuko squeezed his eyes shut at the memory.

“His information was crucial to the safety of our men,” Hakoda said, leveling his gaze to his daughter’s. “Besides, he came to me offering valuable information. I feel that it goes beyond this invasion.”

Sokka found his voice. “How sure are you about that?”

Hakoda hesitated. “I’m not,” he said. “But whatever knowledge he has could give us insight on what the Fire Lord has planned next.”

Sokka turned back to Zuko, shooting him one last menacing glare before withdrawing his bolo. “Well?”

“A comet will be arriving next summer,” Zuko said, unfazed by Sokka’s glare. “Sozin’s Comet. It’s when firebenders will be at their strongest, and my fa– Fire Lord Ozai will use this to his advantage.” He winced at the reflexive address to his father.

“He’s already conscripted every single native firebender. He’ll carpet-bomb the Earth Kingdom, then he’ll have every firebender burn the Kingdom’s dissenters until no one’s left behind. He doesn’t care who’ll die – if they don’t become loyal to the Fire Nation, they will be burned. Fathers, mothers, children – all of them.”

“What you just saw are just prototypes of the bombs and the airships; he plans to make them bigger, grander, with each bomb capable of wiping out half a city. Ba Sing Se will be burned to a crisp when the comet leaves.”

Sokka blanched at the information Zuko presented while Katara fell to her knees. Hakoda looked winded. Zuko recognized their expressions, each of them mirroring his own when he found out about his father’s plan.

“Look,” Zuko said, eyeing the approaching airship from his periphery. “We can’t hide out here much longer. If you won’t accept me as a member of your group, take me as your prisoner instead.”

Sokka snapped his head towards Zuko. “And what makes you think that we’ll need you?”

“Because I know what the Fire Lord has up his sleeve,” Zuko said. “And I know where we can find him next.”

“Besides, doesn’t the Avatar need a firebending teacher?”

Sokka faltered, considering Zuko’s words. Katara didn’t waver.

“And what makes you think we’ll trust that you won’t lead us to another trap?” Katara snapped. _What makes you think I’ll trust you after Ba Sing Se?_

Zuko hesitantly met Katara’s gaze. “You have my word.”

Katara barked a laugh. “Your _word?!_ As if we haven’t fallen for that ridiculous shit before. Come on, Sokka, let’s go.”

Sokka didn’t move. “I know you were the one who led us to Azula in Ba Sing Se.”

Zuko tilted his head downwards. “I’m sorry,” he said quietly.

Katara scoffed.

Sokka kept his eyes on Zuko. “But I heard stories of the runaway prince as we were retreating, and it was your intel that led our men to safety.”

Katara gaped at her brother. “Sokka, you can’t be serious.”

Sokka turned towards his father, who was silent throughout the entire exchange. “Dad?”

Hakoda looked at Zuko thoughtfully. “Jiao.”

Zuko snapped his head up, eyes wide on Hakoda. “You received my messenger hawks.”

Hakoda nodded. “My apologies. I didn’t realize it was you until you mentioned your father’s plans for the comet.”

Sokka and Katara looked at the pair in confusion and astonishment. “I’m sorry – what’s happening?” Katara asked, her head whipping between the prince and the chief.

Before Hakoda could respond, Zuko’s eyes widened in alarm. “We’re out of time,” he said, pointing to the airship with his head. “Either we leave now or we’re toasted.”

A look of apprehension passed between the two siblings as they hesitated, but Hakoda swiftly shoved them into the war balloon before they could utter a sound. Hakoda turned and grabbed Zuko at the last minute, just before the airship came into full view.

Sokka and Katara were furiously lighting the burner while Hakoda turned to steer the balloon. Zuko breathed and willed the flames to go up.

An aerial bomb hit their rendezvous as they sailed past the lip of the Caldera.

Zuko didn't look back.

* * *

_“Jiao?”_

Sokka looked at his father quizzically.

“I’d been receiving intel from the Fire Nation for a few months now. It started two weeks after Ba Sing Se fell,” Hakoda said, eyeing Zuko as he mentioned the fallen city. He found the runaway prince staring listlessly ahead. “It came from a man named Jiao, who introduced himself as an ally of the Order.”

Sokka, eyes wide with shock, turned to look at Zuko.

Zuko didn’t have to look at the young warrior to hear the question. “I’m not actually a member of the White Lotus,” he said. “But I did have the endorsement of the Grandmaster.”

“His uncle, General Iroh,” Hakoda continued. Zuko nodded.

“The last time we met, in Ba Sing Se, I was still hellbent on my old mission – to find, and maybe kill, the Avatar,” Zuko continued. “At that point, I was desperate to go home— not that it excuses what I did to you,” he added quickly, casting a look at Sokka and Katara. “I’m still really sorry about that.”

A melancholic look passed over Katara's eyes before she huffed and looked away. Sokka’s quizzical look turned into a glare.

“I went back home, honor redeemed and all – I realize now that the honor and glory bullshit’s just propaganda my ancestors created to justify their tyranny – and soon after I landed, I was invited to my first war meeting. The first one I attended in seven years.”

“What I told you at the ridge – that was what they discussed during that meeting. I was horrified; there was no glory in it – just pure, diabolical evil.”

“I sought advice from my uncle, who was awaiting trial for treason — you know, for helping you guys in Ba Sing Se — and he was the one who told me to contact the Order. He allowed me to use his seal to validate the endorsement. One thing led to another, and I was led to your Dad – Master Hakoda.”

At the mention of the title, Zuko bowed reverently to the chief, which was returned in kind.

“I stayed in the nation for a few more months to gather more intel on the comet; I’ve sent everything to your father, and I’m sure you know bits and pieces of it. I also knew of your invasion for a long time; I mean, I was the one who recommended that you flank the bunker, not the palace.”

Sokka’s expression hardened at Zuko’s admission and he pointed at the prince accusingly. “So how did the Fire Nation know that we were coming? Did you leak the information?!”

“Agni, _no,”_ Zuko said. “There was a spy in the Order. His name was Joo.”

“Was?”

“The Order executed him,” Hakoda said, a hard expression on his face. Sokka gulped at his father’s words.

“Why couldn’t General Iroh send the intel himself?” Sokka asked, turning to Zuko.

“Because he was in prison, remember? Were you even listening?”

Sokka reddened. Before he could retort, Hakoda stepped in. The color drained from the chief’s face, expecting to hear the worst. “Was? What happened to the Grandmaster?”

“He escaped,” Zuko responded, a worried look passing over his face. “I don’t know where he is now, but he escaped on the day of the invasion.”

Hakoda exhaled, relieved. “Good.”

Sokka fell silent, at a loss of words with the exchange; Katara, on the other hand, fumed; after a long, tense silence, she spoke.

“You’re impossible.”

Zuko laughed, memories of peach pastries and ginseng flashing before his eyes. “An understatement.”

Katara only fumed even more.

* * *

They were greeted by a flurry of anxious teenagers when they landed at the Western Air Temple.

“Katara! Sokka! Chief Hakoda!” Aang yelled over the flock. He propelled himself forward with his air scooter before landing in front of the newcomers. He threw his arms around the group, smiling brightly until he saw a flash of red behind them.

Toph bended rock around Zuko’s ankles, causing Zuko to fall forward. He blew fire from his mouth, propelling himself to an upright position; the rest of the group stepped back instinctively.

Aang positioned himself into the offensive. “What are _you_ doing here?” he demanded.

“Joining your team,” Zuko said simply. He was far too tired to explain himself, and his tact _(or lack thereof)_ was waning by the second.

“Excuse me? After the shit you pulled in Ba Sing Se?!” Toph asked, a scowl consuming her petite face. _“You’re_ the reason why my people fell to the Fire Nation!”

Zuko hung his head low. “I’m sorry.”

 _“Sorry doesn’t cut it,_ jackass. We barely got out of the Ba Sing Se alive.”

Zuko remained silent.

“Aang, Toph, please,” Hakoda said, reaching towards the fuming pair. “I know you’re angry, but Prince Zuko was the one who warned us about the warheads and the airship back at the Capital. He’s offering more valuable intel on the Fire Lord’s whereabouts.”

Aang was bewildered by the fact. _“You?”_

“Me,” Zuko replied.

Toph lowered her hands. “He’s not lying.”

Sokka stepped in between Zuko and the duo. “We’ll be keeping him as a prisoner for now; but we can’t deny the fact that he’s given us valuable intel.”

Toph cocked her head in questioning. “Such as?”

Sokka smirked; he knew exactly what Toph was trying to do. This was Zuko’s test; if he fails, he’ll get thrown off the cliffside.

“The Fire Lord plans to wipe out the entire Earth Kingdom, and anyone who refuses to bend the knee, by burning everyone to a crisp. The invasion was just a preview of what’s to come,” Zuko said, fatigued and unwilling to repeat the entire spiel.

Toph released Zuko’s earthly binds. “Holy shit.”

The rest of the group gaped at Zuko; some couldn’t believe his honesty, others aghast by Ozai’s plan, the rest a mixture of both. Hakoda, Katara, and Sokka shared a grim look.

“If you’ll have me,” Zuko said, his eyes staring straight at Aang’s. “I can teach you firebending; I’m not the best, but I’ve already achieved mastery.”

Aang faltered; when he looked around, he saw that no one else was paying attention to the exchange, still reeling from the discovery of the Fire Lord’s plan.

“Not after what you’ve done,” Aang responded, not quite meeting Zuko’s eyes. Zuko looked down despondently.

“Okay; well, at least let me provide intel for you.”

Aang looked at Sokka, who gave him an imperceptible nod.

“Okay.”

Zuko smiled and bowed to Aang. “Thank you.”

Aang nodded tightly and walked away; the rest of the group trailed after him. Hakoda, however, hung back and undid Zuko’s restraints.

“Sorry about that,” Hakoda said, nodding towards the pile of cables at Zuko’s feet. Zuko shrugged.

“I’ve been through worse.”

Hakoda winced; no boy, not even one that came from a dysfunctional upbringing, should ever get to say that there was something worse than being bound, threatened, and almost killed.

“Sir,” Zuko called, reaching a hand out to Hakoda before the chief managed to move away. “We should be expecting correspondence from a man named Daisuke. He’s a First Officer in the Order.”

“The Fire Lord’s minister of justice,” Hakoda said, nodding in understanding. “Thank you.”

Zuko bowed in response.

* * *

Zuko ate his dinner in the quiet, solitary confines of his room; though he offered himself as a prisoner, he didn’t feel like one – save for the blatant exclusion from communal gatherings. His imprisoned state didn’t stop him from appreciating their hospitality, regardless for their apprehension; after all, he’s been treated worse. Their relative kindness was already more than he could ask for –

– and Katara’s fury was exactly what he deserved.

When he spotted Katara stalking past his room, he shoved past his fear _(and the agony, the heartbreak)_ and called her name. “Katara.”

Katara froze; she steeled her back as she looked over her shoulder.

“What do you want?”

Zuko took a tentative step forward. “Katara, I’m sorry.”

Katara reeled, hesitating as she searched his eyes. Her face was still twisted in rage; but there was sorrow in it, too, and if he looked hard enough, he might’ve seen longing. When she turned to face him fully, all that was left was inconsolable anger.

“Whatever your plans are, know that if you make one wrong move, if you hurt _any_ one of my friends, I will end you. _Permanently.”_

Zuko was silent. Katara’s face crumbled ever so slightly, softening into something that resembled heartbreak as she kept her gaze on him.

“Did I mean nothing to you?” she whispered, barely audible against the raucous conversations from her friends. Her eyes turned glassy for a second and she blinked, unspilled tears gone as soon as they came.

“You meant the world to me, Kat; you still do,” he said softly, his heart breaking at the use of her nickname. The memories it carried were too painful for either of them to bear. “I don’t know if I could ever forgive myself for what’d happened.”

He wanted to reach out to her; to touch her, hold her, and apologize until her heart mended itself back together – but he didn’t deserve that.

Katara met his gaze. “Good. You deserve that much.”

Before she could let him catch the rogue tear that slipped down her cheek, she turned on her heel and walked away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What happened in Ba Sing Se? It's a little different from how we, the fans, remember it. Find out soon!
> 
> Thank you for reading! Would love to hear your feedback. :)
> 
> Chapter title from Mumford & Son's Sigh No More.


	2. this strange, elastic world

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part 1 of What the Hell Happened In Ba Sing Se?
> 
> Be warned, there's more swearing in this chapter. 
> 
> Also, if you're a fan of The Good Place, you might be in for a happy surprise. :)

_Ba Sing Se, Eight Months Earlier_

Katara was so, _so_ close to raising hell; but when the scarred young tea server _(forcibly)_ sat her down at an isolated booth in the Jasmine Dragon, she found herself too shocked to be angry.

“So let me get this straight – you’re in Ba Sing Se as a refugee.”

“Yup.”

“With your uncle.”

“That’s right.”

“And this is because you failed in the Northern Siege, which made your dad call you two traitors, leaving you guys nowhere else to go.”

“I didn’t need it shoved in my face, but yeah.”

“Huh.”

_(The weather was downcast in Ba Sing Se, which meant that Aang’s training wrapped early for the day and tea seemed to be a fantastic idea to cap off an otherwise uneventful day. In her pursuit for a delicious steaming cup of hot leaf juice, she heard raving whispers of the Jasmine Dragon – the newest (and best!) teashop in the Upper Ring. Katara made her way there, all too excited to give herself the luxury of the high society’s tea._

_When she saw the Crown Prince of the Fire Nation manning the shop with the Dragon of the West, she realized that high society was an understatement._

That was fifteen minutes ago. She’s since threatened the life of the scarred pr– tea server, been held down by a steaming cup of delicious-smelling Ginseng tea, and heard the story of Lee, the refugee, and his uncle Mushi.)

With her back steeled and one foot flattened on the ground, Katara studied Zuko–Lee; the way the old Zuko carried himself was a stark contrast to the slumped position that the _(ex?)_ prince was in. The young man that chased them around the world was driven and determined, albeit for horrible reasons; but _this_ Zuko just had a look of resignation on his... well, on his _everywhere_ – his frown, the slump of his shoulders, the bags under his eyes.

That didn’t stop Katara from keeping her guard up. After a long silence, she spoke.

“Are you still hunting Aang?”

“Who’s that?”

“The Avatar.”

“Oh, right. I guess I am? I don’t know. I kinda have to keep a low profile around here. My dad’s probably already sent a death squad after me, and if the Dai Li gets word that we’re here... I mean, we could die, or get sent back to the Fire Nation _and then_ die. Wait– I mean– I know _you_ probably want me dead, but I–”

Zuko put his head in his hands.

“Look – these last six years, all I’ve wanted was to go home. I’ve spent too much time running around in circles with my family; you know, all at once running away from and trying to run towards them. Unfortunately, you guys were collaterals.”

“Right, because we’re your ticket home.”

Zuko winced.

“Well– yeah— I mean, you _were_ my ticket home, I guess. Right now, I don’t know if he’ll ever welcome me back. He still wants you dead, though, and I’m guessing he’s sent my sister to finish the mission for me. For his sake, she wants you dead, too.”

“Did _you_ want us dead?”

Silence. And then –

“I just wanted to go home.”

* * *

She came back two days later.

“You didn’t murder us.”

“You didn’t snitch to the Dai Li.”

Katara eyed him carefully; part of her still didn’t buy his refugee story, but he looked too... _desolate..._ to be lying. When she figured that he had no probable cause to attack, kidnap, or kill her at that moment, she picked up her menu.

“Um... one cup of ginseng, please.”

“Would you like a peach tart to go with that?”

“Is it on the house?”

“Excuse me?”

“You know, for trying to kill my friends and I.”

Zuko’s eyes widened in alarm. He looked around in a silent frenzy, checking to see if anyone else heard her.

“Agni, keep it down!”

Katara smirked.

“So... _is_ it on the house?”

Through his gritted teeth, Zuko said, “In your wildest dreams.”

Zuko huffed and stalked towards the counter.

Katara found herself laughing inwardly at the peach tart that arrived at her table a few minutes later. When she looked up, she saw Iroh smiling in her direction, which she returned in kind. Zuko, on the other hand, was already serving another table; but his tense shoulders and the flushed red tint on his pale skin gave him away. When her eyes traveled up, she let out a hearty laugh.

Zuko looked like he was about to scream, maybe even commit, bloody murder.

* * *

She kept coming back, and there was always a peach tart waiting for her. She softened at the gesture. _You’re doing this to keep tabs on them, Katara,_ she reminded herself. _Don’t let your guard down._

Every time she came back, she would be greeted by a smiling Iroh and an irked, grumbly Zuko. _At least_ that _hasn’t changed,_ she thought. When Zuko made no move to murder she and her friends after two weeks of visiting the teashop regularly, her guarded resolve broke.

“Hello and welcome to the Jasmine Dragon. My name’s Lee, your tea server for today. What will you be having?”

“Why haven’t you killed us yet?”

Zuko sighed. He was tired of this conversation. “Look, hunting the Avatar and his friends is the least of my concerns right now. I’ve just found out that there’s a large bounty on my head and I really, really need to lay low. It doesn’t help that my sister’s in Ba Sing Se, and she’s probably staying in the Upper Ring.”

Katara nearly doubled over. _“What?”_

Zuko looked irritated. “I said I gotta keep a low profile—”

 _“No,_ not that. The last thing you said.”

“My sister’s in Ba Sing Se.”

“Oh _fuck.”_

Zuko nodded to that. “An understatement. Anyway, are you going to order or am I going to have to escort you out of here?”

Katara shot him a glare. “Quit being an ass for once, will you? You’ve already tried to kill us, like, _a thousand times_. No need to be an ass when serving tea.”

“I’m in food service now. I’ve got a backlog of shitty customers that allows me one free _‘be an asshole to a shitty customer’_ card every day for the rest of my life.”

“Yeah, and _I_ get immunity because, _again,_ _you_ tried to kill me. _Multiple times._ ”

 _“Fine!_ Just give me your order—”

“Ginseng.”

Zuko groaned. All that stalling just for her to get her _regular order._

“I’ll be right with you.”

Katara laughed at his retreating figure; there was something amusing to this new predicament she found herself in, the new Zuko she was interacting with, and she figured that it might not be all too terrible. She let herself relax a little, enjoying the day’s peach tart — until she remembered his words.

_My sister’s in Ba Sing Se._

A cold shiver ran up Katara’s spine as she remembered her encounter with the Fire Princess and her friends in Omashu, some three months prior to their arrival at Ba Sing Se. 

_She’s probably staying in the Upper Ring._

Katara froze in her seat and eyed the patrons, looking out for any signs of the princess.

Zuko stopped at her table and handed her tea. “You’re not going to find her here.”

“Why?”

Zuko let out a sigh and sat down. He kept his voice low as he spoke.

“Because she’s planning... _something._ I don’t know what it is yet, but she’s definitely planning, say, a siege or an invasion. I don’t know; but it’s definitely _something.”_

“How sure are you about that?”

“...Maybe eighty percent.”

“How’d you find out she was even here?”

“I ran into my ex-girlfriend.”

“Wow, _you_ had a girlfriend?”

Zuko looked hurt. Katara quickly swallowed any follow-ups.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean–”

“It’s fine. I get it.”

Katara averted her eyes. Zuko let out a shallow breath.

“Anywhere my ex is, my sister’s probably nearby. Word is that my sister’s _traveling_ again, and my ex is one of the few people my sister could trust.”

“Oh, so your ex-girlfriend’s your sister’s friend? Which one? The one that throws knives from her sleeve or the smiley chi-blocker?”

“Knives.”

 _Makes sense,_ Katara thought.

“So your ex knows that you’re in Ba Sing Se and she’s working with your sister; shouldn’t you be hiding or running away from here?”

“Too suspicious to the Dai Li. I mean, I’m pretty sure my sister already knows that we’re here, but the fact that she hasn’t walked through those doors and tried to strike lightning at me is what’s putting me off; it’s why I have to keep a low profile— I mean, I’m backed into a corner either way, but I’d rather stay alive for a bit longer.”

“Oh, yeah, and running the most popular teashop in the Upper Ring _sure_ _is_ low profile,” Katara said, sarcasm dripping through her words. A smirk grew on her face, but she rescinded it as soon as Zuko’s scowl grew.

“Sorry.”

“For the record, I’m pretty sure she’s here for you and your friends, too.”

“I know.”

“So why haven’t you left yet? You know, to go tell your Avatar buddies about my sister.”

Katara hesitated. She didn’t trust Zuko enough to tell him _we came here to have an audience with the Earth King so he can finally take a side in this war but he’s a total idiot and we’re kinda suspicious of the Dai Li’s movements so we’re secretly investigating them too and we kinda really wanna get to the bottom of it because we’re with the Avatar and saving people is kinda what we do and wouldn’t it be cowardly to ditch these people just because we’re scared of your sister?,_ and she doesn’t have many reasonable excuses up her sleeve.

“We’re here to see the Earth King.”

Zuko raised his brow. “Have you not had an audience with him yet? Your boyfriend–”

“Not my boyfriend.”

“– yeah, sure – is the Avatar.”

Katara huffed. “It’s that Joo Dee. She gives me the creeps! All she says is–”

“There is no war in Ba Sing Se,” they said in chorus.

It was Katara’s turn to raise her brow. “And she won’t let us see the Earth King.”

“So you’ve just been kicking it back in Ba Sing Se for, what, a couple weeks now? That’s weird.”

Zuko was more perceptive than Katara thought. Her back steeled itself again.

“It’s none of your business.”

Zuko shrugged. “I never expected you to tell me anyway.”

Just as he was about to get up from his seat, Katara said, “Wait!”

“What?”

“A while ago, you said that there’s a large bounty on your head. What’s up with that?”

"No one knows whose side I’m on now that I’ve been branded as a traitor. I mean, it’s not like I committed to fighting with you guys. For as long as that’s the case, I’m a security risk to my father. The same goes for my uncle. Lo and behold, a bounty on our heads.”

Katara would’ve scowled at his patronizing if she wasn’t so perplexed by his circumstance. “So... _whose_ side are you on?”

“...I don’t know.”

Katara nodded and Zuko walked away.

* * *

Katara came back a few days later.

“Got your audience with the Earth King?” Zuko asked as he set down a plate of peach tarts on her table.

“Nope.”

“Still weird. Anyway, good luck with that.”

He was about to turn when Katara put out a hand to stop him.

“Zu— _Lee.”_

“Yes?”

Katara lowered her voice. “Why’d you tell me all of that?”

“All of what?”

“Everything you’ve told me since I first stepped into this teashop.”

Zuko looked away. When he spoke, there was melancholy that dripped through his tone.

“Other than my uncle, I have nothing else to lose. Right now, I’m on no one’s side in the war, which puts me in a position where everyone wants to kill me. All I care about is getting through the day without getting shot or maimed, so what good will it do to hold anything else back?”

Katara gulped. Zuko continued.

“Whether you believe me or not is completely up to you, but I promise you – if you leave Ba Sing Se now, I won’t be able to follow you. If I do, I’ll get shot dead trying.”

Katara’s heart dropped at the desolation laced through his voice. She swallowed the other questions building in her throat and said, “Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Okay.”

Zuko left without a word. Katara only realized that she never got to give her order when a cup of ginseng showed up on her table a few moments later.

* * *

Katara’s visits become sporadic after that meeting, but the peach tarts and the ginseng always appeared when she’d stop by. One day, exactly two months after she first visited the teashop, she burst through the doors one minute before closing time. She was seething and promptly sat with a loud thump; luckily, there was no one to see her — it was strangely warm that night and all of the other patrons had gone their ways.

If it were anyone else, Zuko _definitely_ would’ve screamed, most likely committed, bloody murder.

“Sorry for coming in so late,” she said through gritted teeth. “I’m surrounded by a bunch of _babies_ and I need something to calm me down.”

“You look like you need some _sake_ , not tea.”

“Prince Zuko!” Iroh chided as he deftly prepared Katara’s ginseng tea; behind his uncle’s back, Zuko rolled his eyes. He walked over to Katara and handed her a plate of peach tarts. The tea followed shortly after, which she took gratefully.

“Thanks,” Katara mumbled. When she stuffed a tart into her mouth a little too vigorously, Zuko lurched towards her.

“Woah there, calm down or you’re gonna—”

Katara coughed violently.

“—choke.”

Zuko refilled Katara’s teacup and handed it to her. She gulped its contents down so quickly that Zuko thought she inhaled it.

“Thanks.”

“Sure.”

Katara put her head in her hands, pushing its heels into her eyes. “Ugh! They’re all such _children!”_

“I mean–”

“Not now.”

“I was going to say that we’re all children.”

Katara lifted her head.

“Zuko, I’m going to turn eighteen soon. I’m _two years_ past the age of maturity for my tribe.”

“And I’ll be twenty in a couple days. Your point is...?”

“We aren’t children anymore!”

“But we’re too young for this war.”

The room fell silent and Iroh smiled sadly at the pair. Other than the sound of Zuko taking a seat across Katara, neither of the teenagers spoke; Iroh took this as his cue to leave. When his footsteps faded into silence, the words came gushing out of Katara’s mouth.

“I never asked for this, you know? I never asked to save the world! I mean, I know it’s not _me,_ it’s Aang, but that doesn’t mean the pressure isn’t there. I never asked to fight in a war that was never even _mine_ – it’s no one’s but some man’s ego trip and yet _I_ have to suffer for it. _I_ had to lose people for it– I had to lose _my mother_ for it. Speaking of mothers, these kids keep looking at me as if I had all the answers in the world, because _mother knows best –_ but what do I know? I barely even got to know my own mom! I don’t even remember what her voice sounds like! _I can’t even remember what she looks like!_ I’m fighting in this Agni-cursed war but dammit, I’m just collateral damage! _”_

She didn’t realize she was crying until Zuko handed her a napkin. She took it wordlessly.

“I’m sorry,” was all Zuko could say.

“W-what are you sorry for?”

“That my great-grandfather started this war.”

“You’re not him.”

That took Zuko aback, though he didn’t know why.

“My father, and my grandfather before him, continued the war.”

“You’re not them either.”

“But I carry their sins.”

“And what have you done with that?”

“Well, I carried it as a badge of honor, used it as fuel to hunt you and your friends down, and now, nothing. Am I not worse for that?”

Katara silently admitted that _that_ got her thinking. Zuko took her silence as concurrence.

“Thought so.” Just as he was about to turn to leave, Katara caught his arm.

“What do you want to do with that weight now?”

It was Zuko’s turn to be silent. He wanted to go home, to have his father acknowledge and welcome him back; but life on the run has made him face the harsh realities of war, one that was started by his own ancestors. It was madness — the war, all the loss, his current circumstance with Katara, and the turmoil that boiled inside of him — and he was lost. He didn’t know right from wrong anymore, what was honorable and what wasn’t; but if there’s one thing he knew, it was —

“I want to end this war.”

Katara nodded. “Then do that. You know how this war must end.”

Zuko looked perplexed. “No, I don’t!”

“Yes, you do.”

He knew what she was implying and he refused to entertain the thought. It would be treason to do so, and there was no way he’d be welcomed back home — but why does he feel _ashamed?_ Why did he feel like he was betraying her by shutting the thought from his mind? He was no friend of the Avatar’s, but as he looked at the blue-eyed girl in front of him, and another question popped into his mind—

“Why?”

Katara was bewildered. “What?”

“Why haven’t you turned me in? Better yet, _why haven’t you killed me yourself?_ I mean, like what you said, I _did_ hunt you down and try to kill you; now that I’m vulnerable, why do not do it now? Why do you keep coming back? _Why?”_

Katara was taken aback, her mind racing for answers. “Um— well, to start, I keep coming back because your uncle really does make the best tea in town.”

Zuko deflated and sank back to his chair and the dark look of resignation settled itself on his face again. As Katara’s mind raced through his questions, her mouth scrambled for answers.

“And I— I mean, what good will turning you in do?”

Zuko’s brow quirked up at that. Katara’s face flushed, then she took deep breaths to steady herself.

“Okay— you’ve been conflicted about where you stood in this war. Sure, you’ve tried to hunt us down multiple times, but talking to you over the last couple of months showed me that you’re capable of doing good – and who was I to stop you from that? Who was I to _kill you_ and deprive you of that chance? I wouldn’t be any better than... _them..._ if I killed you in the name vengeance. Besides, I guess you’re not _that_ bad anymore — you haven’t killed us yet and you were right about your sister; she’s here, in Ba Sing Se, and she’s the bigger problem that my friends and I have to face. It doesn’t help that the Dai Li—” 

Katara clamped a hand over her mouth. _Shit,_ she thought. _He wasn’t supposed to be in on this._

Zuko sat up as his eyes widened. “What about the Dai Li, Katara?”

Katara internally face-palmed herself; externally, she had both her hands slowly rubbing her cheeks. Close enough.

Zuko didn’t break his stare. “What do you know? I’ve been watching the Dai Li for months.”

That got Katara’s attention. She straightened up and squinted her eyes. “You first.”

He exhaled. _Nothing else to lose._ “Ever since my Uncle and I moved to the Upper Ring, they’ve become extra strict about staying hush on the war. But there was one governor who was a regular here, until he mentioned the war out loud; we haven’t seen him since. It was funny, because the same happened to this asshole named Jet – some guy who assaulted me when I was in the Lower Ring—”

Kayara perked up even more at the sound of a familiar name. “Jet? Did he have some kind of twig-looking thing from his mouth? Did he have shaggy brown hair?”

“Yeah, why?”

Katara was quiet for a moment, her eyes downcast, until she said, “I-it’s nothing; I met the guy while we were traveling, that’s all.”

Zuko shot her a suspicious look. “...Anyway, I’d already been doing some sneaking out and around Ba Sing Se, so I figured I’d try to find them. I mean, how could a place proclaim peace when people were routinely going missing — and, weirdly, at the mention of a _very real_ war?”

Katara’s eyes widened. “Zuko, keep it down! What if they could hear us?”

To her credit, Zuko hesitated and looked around, triple-checking the windows. All closed. “They won’t be able to, unless you snitch.”

“I won’t, but only if you promise you won’t snitch on me.”

“Deal.”

“Was that all?”

“No. Like I said, I’ve been watching the Dai Li for a while now; I found the underground tunnels, where I found your bison, and in it were these rooms. These rooms could fit fifteen people– twenty, tops. When I was... _investigating_ one night, I heard the teashop guy in one of the rooms. He kept saying ‘there is no war in Ba Sing Se’; two rooms down, I heard a female voice say it. Then a female voice started to say ‘my name is Joo Dee’. Both rooms had light, but the light was _moving;_ they were hypnotizing them. It was the same tactic my grandfather used on some... _curious_ soldiers.”

Katara was too shocked to speak. Zuko was quiet too, expecting her to say her end of Dai Li suspicions.

“Well? How about you?”

Katara looked around apprehensively. When she accounted for all windows, making sure that no one could hear them, she exhaled. “The Dai Li is the one controlling Ba Sing Se’s affairs. Kuei’s a puppet king.”

Other than the slight widening of his eyes, Zuko’s face remained impassive. “I mean, Kuei’s kind of a nuthead. I’m not _that_ surprised that he’s just a puppet king, but the _Dai Li?_ Really? What makes you say...?”

Katara lowered her voice. “Because all he does is hold banquets and have his bear entertain whoever’s dining with him. Do you know the reason why it’ll take us forever to get an audience with him? Because he never has an audience with _anyone._ The last person to have an audience with the Earth King was some merchant that appealed to Kuei’s _father.”_

“And how do you know all that?”

“Toph and I snuck into the palace a week ago; he was holding another one of his banquets — your sister was there, that’s how I confirmed she was here — and Toph suspected movement underground. So, naturally, we went underground –”

“As in–”

“Yes, as in _underneath the palace._ Anyway, there were these rooms; in one of them, we heard one of the higher-ranking Dai Li running through the list of requests for an audience; in the next room, we heard Long Feng discussing _our_ request for an audience with some of his fellow officers. I guess we were kinda driving a nail to their side because they sounded extra annoyed; how can they accommodate the Avatar’s party, who they can’t hide the war from? It’s not like they can turn us away either. So, he – Long Feng – was like, _‘how are we going to accommodate the Avatar?’_ and _‘we need to address this soon before it becomes suspicious’_ and _‘we can’t keep saying that there’s no war in Ba Sing Se – it’s the_ fucking _Avatar!’._ His words, not mine.”

Zuko was quiet for a moment, absorbing the information from Katara’s story. “That’s all?”

“What do you mean ‘that’s all’? This is some big stuff!”

“I know, but is that all your intel?”

“Intel?”

“Inf– you know what, nevermind. Thanks for letting me know, I guess.”

Katara snorted. “I don’t even know why I told you.”

“I mean, we’re both onto the Dai Li.”

“Right.” 

Katara put her cup down and moved to stand. “Thanks for sharing what you know, and for the tea. And the tarts. They were all lovely.”

“Conspiracy’s lovely?”

Katara cracked a grin. “Sure is. Thanks, Zuko.”

“Sure.” Zuko stood, leading her to the back exit.

When Zuko closed the door after they bid their final goodbyes, he decided that the warm feeling in the pit of his stomach was from all the tea.

(He didn’t drink a single drop the whole time she was there.)

* * *

Zuko hasn’t had a birthday party in eight years. In his last party, he’d dodged all of his Academy classmates and snuck away with all of the _xiao long bao_ trays and peach mango tarts that could fit his spindly twelve-year-old arms.

He remembered his little afterparty with his mother, laughing with her as they filled their cheeks with the tarts that she secretly whisked away from the banquet. He smiled sadly as the memory flashed through his mind.

“Happy birthday, Prince Zuko!” Iroh whispered as he walked into Zuko’s room with a plate of peach tarts and mango pastries. One of the tarts had a birthday candle sticking out of it, the wax teetering on the edge of the candle’s perimeters.

Despite himself, Zuko smiled; the peach and mango combination didn’t go amiss by him. “Thanks, Uncle.”

Iroh cracked a grin and shoved the plate towards Zuko. “Go on, make a wish!”

Zuko made a show of closing his eyes, pretending to make a wish _(he didn’t really believe in wishes anymore – not since his father swept all his hopes from under him)_ . When he opened his eyes and blew the candle, he saw Iroh swipe a tear from his eye. Zuko had to stop himself from shooting his uncle a look; while it wasn’t unusual for the general to get swept up in his emotions, it was strange to see him emotional on a birthday that wasn’t his or his son’s. Deciding not to question anything _(lest Zuko witness an unsolicited emotional outburst from his uncle),_ Zuko gingerly took the plate from his uncle’s hands and nodded towards the door. “We have to open.”

Iroh sniffed. “R-right. Open. People. Right.”

Zuko took a pastry and handed a tart to his uncle. The older man took it gratefully, saying, “Thank you, my son. Happy birthday.”

Zuko froze in his tracks, realizing with a jolt that Iroh called him _his_ son – the person whose birthday he cries on. His _son_ — something Ozai had refused to recognize for as long as Zuko could remember. It was Zuko’s turn to choke back tears.

“Thank you, Uncle.”

Iroh smiled at him fondly before pushing the doors open, marking the start of their day.

Zuko and Iroh didn’t mention any birthday to their patrons; Zuko’s face was already a dead giveaway of his identity, and any piece of information that could further confirm it – such as a birthday – could threaten more exposure. This meant that Zuko racked up another list of shitty customers, leaving him irate by the end of the day. Nothing new there.

Zuko was about to close the doors of the shop when a flash of blue sped past the wooden slabs.

“What the—”

“Happy birthday!” Katara said, beaming as she held a bottle. 

Amid his shock, Zuko fumbled as he locked the doors.

“Thank you…?” Zuko said, unsure of what to say. No one’s ever surprised him for his birthday — well, Iroh tried to, back when they were traveling at sea, but Zuko always caught a whiff of the surprise before he could set it up. This was the first time Zuko was truly surprised on his birthday.

Katara’s face fell. “Oh Tui and La, I am _so_ sorry. Did I get your birthday wrong? Oh man, I must’ve misheard you—”

Her fumbling made Zuko come back to his senses. He gave her a small smile. “Katara, you didn’t get it wrong. I was surprised you knew, that’s all.”

Katara’s cheeks pinkened ever so slightly. “Well… you mentioned it the last time I was here; I only remembered it when I was about to go to the teashop. I was supposed to come here after lunch, but choosing a gift took the whole day.”

It was Zuko’s turn to blush. “You didn’t have to get me anything, you know.”

“Oh, I know; with our history? Not appropriate. This gift is for me, on your birthday.”

Zuko laughed.

Katara twisted the bottle open. “You look like you could do some _sake_.”

“You’re right, I could.”

“I only have some _junmai-shu_ , though. A _daiginjo_ would blow my entire budget, so, sorry, Your Highness.”

Zuko felt a dull twinge in his heart when he heard her say _Your Highness,_ but he was too touched by the gesture that he let it slide. “It’s fine; and, hey, I appreciate the gesture, really– thank you.”

Katara smiled and settled in a seat as Zuko picked up two teacups from the backroom. When he saw the tray of peach and mango pastries that his uncle made for him, he grabbed that, too. Katara lit up at the sight of a new pastry.

“Ooh, new item?” she asked as she picked up a mango pastry.

“Nope, you just never bothered to ask for other desserts.”

Katara shrugged. “Fair, but I don’t think sweets and sake would be the best combination.”

“What do you suggest we have, then?”

“How about something from the food stall nearby?”

“Jianyu’s food stall?”

 _“That’s_ his name? The doofy guy who acts like he’s twelve?”

Zuko chuckled. “Yup. He’s a great cook, though.”

Katara moaned at the thought of Jianyu’s food as Zuko started leading her to the door. “Oh, I know what you mean. Have you tried his orange chicken? I swear I have it _every day.”_

Zuko moved to open the door for them. “Okay, I haven’t tried the orange chicken yet, but his _ramen_ is amazing — with that _chashu_ and spicy miso broth, too! Damn, I’ll probably get that.”

Katara scrunched her nose as Zuko let her through the door. “Oh, thanks— are spicy miso noodles good with sake?”

“It’s my go-to comfort meal.”

“And how often do you need to eat your comfort meal?”

“With all the snotty Ba Sing Se nobles shoving themselves up my ass? _Every day.”_

Katara laughed. “I get what you mean.” She stopped in her tracks. “Wait, what can we get your uncle?”

“He loves Jianyu’s roasted pork.”

Katara nodded and continued walking. “So, nobles were still up your ass today?”

“Absolutely. There was one noble who was dead set on making my life miserable today—”

“Lee, I don’t think a random Earth Kingdom noble would make it his personal mission to make you miserable. That’s _my_ job.”

Zuko looked affronted. “No, you don’t get it, Katara. He’d flag me down every two seconds just to ask why there was no milk in his tea, and when I’d say that we didn’t have that option ready yet, he’d go off about how terrible the tea was. I mean, excuse me, but _milk?!_ _In what world?_ He’s so lucky my uncle didn’t hear it; Uncle might’ve flipped if he did.”

Katara’s nose scrunched up again. “You’re right. That sounds terrible; can you imagine ginseng tea with milk? _Blegh!_ Oh, there’s the food stall!”

When they reached the food stall, Jianyu poked his head out. “Oh, what’s up guys! I didn’t know you were friends! Oh wait, don’t tell me — you guys are _on a date._ I knew it! Oh man, Katara, you’re blushing. You like him! Lee, she likes you!”

Katara and Zuko flushed at the sudden outburst and Jianyu briefly returned his attention to the dish he was cooking. From behind his heavy-bottom pot, Jianyu said, “So, what can I have for you guys? Ooh, do you wanna share a bowl of _ramen?_ You guys can _accidentally_ pick up the same noodle and _accidentally_ kiss – if you know what I mean!”

Zuko held a hand over his face as Katara sputtered. 

“We aren’t dating, Jianyu,” Zuko said. “She’s just a friend, and we ran into each other on the way here.”

Jianyu paused for a moment, shooting the pair a suspicious look. After a moment, he cracked a grin. “Oh, dip!”

Katara was astonished. “Dip?”

Zuko shrugged. Jianyu didn’t respond.

Jianyu popped his head back out. “So? What’ll you guys be having?”

“Two ramens,” Katara said. “The spicy kind. And some roasted pork.”

Jianyu shot a look at Zuko. “You should’ve shared.”

Zuko pinched the bridge of his nose. “Jianyu–”

Jianyu put his hands up. “Okay, okay! Some rice to go with that roasted pork for my guy Mushi?”

Zuko nodded. A few moments later, Jianyu handed the food to them.

“Enjoy, guys!” Jianyu said, beaming at the pair. “Tell Monkey Mushi that I said hi! Oh, and come back for your next date!”

Zuko balked. “We’re not— Monkey— ? Oh, nevermind. Thanks, Jianyu.”

Katara gave the cook a small smile. “See you tomorrow, Jianyu.”

Jianyu waved them goodbye with his ladle.

When they were halfway to the teashop, Katara burst into laughter.

Zuko shot her a look. “What’s so funny?”

Katara wheezed and caught her breath before she responded, _“Monkey Mushi?!”_

Zuko shook his head, trying to hide the smile that grew on his face.

* * *

“Crap, Zuko, this ramen is _amazing.”_

Katara lifted her bowl and slurped the last of her spicy miso broth. “I’m usually not one for spicy food, but that was _so good.”_

Zuko gave her a small smile. “I told you. It’s the closest I’ve tasted to the ones they serve in the Fire Nation.”

Katara grimaced at the mention of the Fire Nation; her fear of them was instinctive to her, having lost her own mother at their hands. This didn’t go amiss by Zuko.

“Sorry.”

“Why are you apologizing?”

“I don’t know; you winced and I– I never wanted people to be afraid of– Sorry.”

Katara smiled sympathetically. “We’ve talked about this before.”

“I know.”

Katara reached out and grasped his hand. “Okay, I don’t wanna ruin a perfectly good day. Why don’t you tell me something nice about the Fire Nation? Your birthdays in the grand palace, maybe?”

A sad smile flitted through Zuko’s face. “They really weren’t that great, you know.”

“Oh, _please._ Whatever you held on your birthday is probably a thousand times more grand than the ones I had in the South Pole.”

“No, I– Sorry, I didn’t mean it in that way. I meant to say that I didn’t enjoy them as much as you might think I have; sure, there were Academy kids around, but I was never really friends with them, you know? Being the Crown Prince isolated me from a lot of people. The food was great, though.”

“At least that’s consistent,” Katara said as she motioned to their empty bowls.

Zuko let out a breathy laugh. “Sure. Even the food I had when we were out at sea wasn’t so bad.”

Katara smiled, encouraging him to continue. When Zuko’s smile faltered, she rubbed circles on the back of his hand with her thumb.

“My favorites were the _xiao long baos_ and the peach mango pastries. When I was too full of the Academy kids, I’d sneak out trays of them and eat them in my room.”

“You really like being alone, don’t you?”

“Sure, I guess.”

“Well, tell me more about these _xiao long baos_ and peach mango pastries.”

“Oh, I think you’d enjoy them. A _xiao long bao_ is a soup dumpling – literally, it’s soup wrapped in a dumpling wrapper.”

Katara quirked a brow. “How does that work?”

Zuko shrugged. “Beats me. It’s fantastic, though, and I could have fifty of them in one go.”

“Well, it’s your birthday – I don’t see why you don’t get a free pass.”

Zuko laughed. “Uncle would beg to differ. He hated it when I hogged all of the _xiao long baos._ ”

Katara cracked a grin. “I’m guessing you’d steal all the trays before he could?”

“I’d steal them before he knows they’re there.”

Katara laughed. “Okay, but how will you fit some peach mango dessert with your fifty _xiao long baos?”_

Zuko quieted for a moment, and the melancholic look that passed over his eyes didn’t go amiss by Katara. “Zuko,” she said in a quiet voice. “We don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.”

“It’s fine,” he said. “It’s just that– well, I– I shared those pastries with my mother. She’d sneak some pastries for herself, then we’d eat them together in my room at the end of every birthday.”

Katara gave him a sad smile. “You must miss her. I’m sure she misses you too, now that you’re so far away from home.”

“She’s been gone for eight years now, Katara. She left the palace shortly after my twelfth birthday.”

Katara’s smile dropped. “Oh,” she said. “I’m sorry.”

Zuko gave her a sad smile. “You’re not the only one who’s lost a mother to the Fire Nation.”

Katara tore her eyes away from him, settling her gaze on their now-intertwined hands. “But… you’re the Crown Prince. She was the _Fire Lady._ How could that’ve happened?”

Zuko sucked in a breath; this was a conversation he wasn’t ready to have. Instead, he said, “I don’t know.”

Katara nodded wordlessly; she understood his pain. They were quiet for a moment, lost in their own thoughts.

When Katara looked up, she said, “You’re a good person, Zuko.”

That took Zuko aback. “W-what?”

“You’re a good person. I never would’ve thought that a few months ago, back when you were still chasing us, but these last three months made me think otherwise. You’re not a monster, or whatever you think your family thinks of you. You’re capable of good, Zuko.”

Zuko smiled. “Thanks, Kat.”

Katara smiled back and squeezed his hand. He squeezed hers back. “I hope you’ll find a way to end this war.”

“I hope so, too.”

After a moment, Katara rose from her chair. “Hey, I, uh, I’m really sorry, but I have to go; my friends usually get worried when I’m out after eight. Thanks for letting me crash your birthday.”

Zuko laughed and led her to the back room. “Thanks for joining me.”

“What kind of friend would I be if I didn’t?”

Zuko’s heart jumped at the thought of them being friends; in an effort to hide how flustered he was, he let out a laugh.

Before Katara stepped out of the back door, she gave him a soft smile and said, “Happy birthday, Zuko.”

“Thank you.”

Katara gave him one last smile before heading out.

Zuko felt a smile grow on his face when he shut the door.

 _We’re friends,_ Zuko thought, laughing at the irony of their situation. From chasing Katara and her Avatar buddies halfway across the world, they somehow managed to land here, in Ba Sing Se, and become friends themselves; a few years ago, he swore he’d be enemies with the Avatar and his crew, but destiny is a funny thing.

When he finished cleaning the dishes, he grabbed the unopened bottle of _sake;_ against his own will, his heart lurched at the memory of Katara’s surprise. _Agni, calm down,_ he thought as he chided himself. _She’s nice, she’s a friend, and there’s nothing more than that._

 _But she cares about you!,_ a little voice in his head said. _She cares about you more than any girl ever has!_

He shook away his own thoughts and decided to share the bottle with his uncle to cap off a good night.

“Uncle,” Zuko called. “We have some sake! Do you want some?”

Silence.

“Uncle?”

He heard wordless shuffling from his uncle’s room. 

“Uncle!”

Dread flooded Zuko’s veins as he scrambled up the stairs. _He’s captured, we got caught, oh fuck, he’s probably been assassinated, fuck fuck fuck–_

Zuko threw the door open. He found Iroh bound and gagged, with Dai Li agents flanking him; when he realized what was happening, he threw the bottle of _sake_ at the intruder.

Azula laughed as she sidestepped the puddle of _sake_.

“Happy birthday, Zuzu. Did you enjoy your little date?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!
> 
> Updates for this fic have been, and likely will be, quite slow – and I'm really sorry about that. Life has been quite busy and, alas, I gotta keep up with it. I'm still really, really excited for this series, though – and hope you are, too! See you in the next chapter!
> 
> In the meantime, I'd love to hear your feedback. :)
> 
> Chapter title from The Shin's September.


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